


The Devil by the Dictionaries

by PinkPenguinParade



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, aziraphale sells books
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 01:20:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21007328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkPenguinParade/pseuds/PinkPenguinParade
Summary: "I swear I see them lurking out there sometimes, angel. I can see them out there, just hanging about until I pop my head into the main part of the shop, and then suddenly three or four of them are in the store and want to look at shelvesjustnear where I am."Or, Crowley hangs out in the bookshop, and customers have noticed.





	The Devil by the Dictionaries

**Author's Note:**

> Rated T out of an overabundance of caution because no smut exists, but smut is mentioned. I mean, I fail to see how anyone on Ao3 can not at least know what erotica is, but just in case....
> 
> Also anyone who wants to run with this idea is welcome to, I just ask that you let me know so I can read it and link!

A.Z. Fell's bookshop is open today, door propped to let in a lovely spring breeze. Mr. Fell himself is puttering about the place in his old-fashioned suit and reading glasses, pursing his lips as he reshelves books, occasionally pointing a customer toward the perfect book that they didn't even know they wanted.

A tall, lanky man in sunglasses wanders into and out of the back room from time to time. His black jacket is immaculate, his black jeans are distinctly too tight, and his hair is the red at the heart of banked embers, artfully tousled. 

He calls Mr. Fell 'Angel." Mr. Fell calls him 'Crowley' or 'My dear." And wherever he wanders in the store, people find _other_ books they didn't know they were looking for. Often in a section marked 'Erotica', which they would have sworn was not there when they looked last.

A few of the customers, the ones who have been around for a while, have gotten used to him. They visit specifically when he is around, because it might be embarrassing to look into the sweet blue eyes of Mr. Fell and ask for the dirty books, but all they have to do is wander toward wherever the man in black is, who wears his sunglasses indoors, and the erotica section will be nearby.

***

"I do wish you'd stop doing that," Aziraphale says, sighing as the last customer currently in the shop steps out with his collection of vintage smut. "It always takes me forever to figure out where you've sent the books that are supposed to be there."

"Oh, all right," Crowley says, and waves his hand. The erotica section reappears in its normal spot toward the back of the store and the very surprised (okay, not that surprised) cookbooks section returns to the shelves at his elbow. "You know that kid in the purple hair is doing their thesis on Victorian erotica as a reflection and refutation of rigid gender norms and social mores, right? I'm just helping."

"You can _point,_ Crowley. You can use that wicked tongue and give _directions._ You don't have to rearrange my shop every time you feel like watching someone blush."

"Oh, that kid never blushes. Also, they're very respectful of the books; everything is always shelved very carefully when they're done."

"He has a name. His name is Skyler, his parents don't approve of his hair or pronouns, and we spent three hours last month talking over tea while he was looking for research material. _He is allowed in my personal library._" Aziraphale pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs again, then leaves the till to close and lock the door. They've gone 40 seconds without customers, clearly all the interesting things are done for the day and it's time for tea. Possibly a nice afternoon stroll. "You will not convince me you lurked around rearranging my shop for Skyler."

"I swear I see them just waiting out there sometimes, angel. I can see them out there, just hanging about until I pop my head into the main part of the shop, and then suddenly three or four of them are in the store and want to look at shelves _just_ near where I am. It would be... well, just cruel to deny them the show they waited for."

"I think the larger problem, my dear, is that it would be cruel to deny _you_ the show you waited for," says the angel, leaning up to give him a fond kiss on the cheek "Out for tea, or nosh here and have a walk?"

"Hmm. I don't know. What will you give me if we stay in? Can I move the erotica section up front permanently?"

"I don't think so, dear--Ooh, there's that bakery just down the way!" He smiles. "The back is traditional, after all."

Crowley pulls a face. "Let me guess, 'think of the children'?"

"No, think of the customers. Many of them would actually rather not be in full view of the door when perusing the more... racy works."

"...Did you legitimately just say 'racy'? Nobody says that anymore. Nobody. Tiny grandmothers don't say 'racy'."

"Hmm. Saucy, then?"

Crowley groans. "Just call it good honest smut."

"Well, in honor of good honest smut, I propose heading to tea. They might still have the good scones if we get a wiggle on."

"Angel, you are _killing_ me here," Crowley says, but he can't keep the smile off his face as they stroll out of the store.

"And you're buying the scones, dear!"

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as noodling an introduction to an entirely different fic, which still has not come to be because after this it would be a hell of a tonal shift, so enjoy a tiny ficlet!
> 
> I don't always reply to every comment necessarily, but all are read and loved


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